Chapter 422: Detroit Extermination War (1)
Chapter 422: Detroit Extermination War (1)
Plumes of fire erupt everywhere I look.
Perhaps because it’s an urban center, the Air Force hasn't been deployed, but it is a full-scale Extermination Operation involving armored divisions, infantry, and every available Hero from the Management Bureau.
Even limiting the scope to the United States, this isn't the first time such an operation has taken place.
The now-extinct Curator once seized control of an entire city, and an Extermination Operation was carried out then to seal him away.
However, compared to that time, there are many more scenes here that are detrimental to one's mental health.
Back then, the modified humans still wore their original skin, making it look like the military was massacring civilians. But those creatures would immediately reveal the machinery hidden inside them the moment they were attacked, giving a strong impression that one was fighting something non-human.
In Detroit, however, the spectacle is far more cruel.
Civilians screaming as they burn.
Someone wailing that they are just an ordinary person even as they are riddled with bullets, hands raised in surrender.
…Both were monsters.
The enemies melt away the moment they die.
Did they truly believe they were normal people, unaware of their own infection? Or were they merely putting on an act to disguise themselves as civilians?
Since it’s impossible to ask those who are already dead, it remains in the realm of speculation, but this is what I think:
Those mad doctors intentionally ordered them to act this way to traumatize the Management Bureau.
Knowing those lunatics, it’s exactly the kind of thing they would do to delay the Bureau’s assault.
Even if this Extermination Operation ends successfully, many members of the Defense Force will likely suffer.
They may have killed monsters, not people, but the screams those monsters let out as they died will remain in their ears as human voices, haunting them forever.
The command center seems to realize this as well, attempting to resolve the situation with artillery and explosives to minimize direct contact between soldiers and The Enemy, but the nature of urban warfare thwarts those efforts.
It’s a complex cityscape where The Enemy could pop out from anywhere at any time.
Fortunately, The Enemy isn't taking active defensive measures, so there are no booby traps to speak of. However, the fact remains that one can never tell when or where a figure—indistinguishable as either a civilian or an infected—might suddenly appear.
Consequently, reports of soldiers accidentally killing uninfected civilians out of sheer panic are not uncommon.
One could call it an unavoidable accident, but even so, it will leave an irreversible scar on the hearts of the soldiers who pulled the triggers.
And those struck by the bullets will leave this world carrying a bitterness that no one can ever soothe.
If there is any consolation in this hellish battlefield, it is this:
“Well done, Brantley.”
“To what do I owe the sudden praise, sir?”
“I just thought that without you, securing a sample would have been delayed significantly.”
The live biological sample Brantley brought back on the first day—that single act lowered the sheer density of cruelty in this operation.
Having obtained a sample early on, the Management Bureau was able to develop a device that could, however simply, distinguish between the infected and the non-infected.
Though there are issues with its accuracy and processing speed, it has at least prevented situations where the order is simply to "mow down everything in sight."
When a civilian is discovered, the device performs a biological scan that takes about ten seconds to confirm whether the target is infected.
Of course, since it’s only a makeshift test, it can’t provide a detailed diagnosis. There are cases where a person is cleared only to be revealed as infected upon closer inspection, or where a civilian is wrongly identified as infected. Still, it has spared us from a hell where everything that moves is slaughtered.
Though, as I mentioned, it can’t do anything about the split-second accidental shootings.
Well, putting the current situation aside, there’s one thing I’m curious about.
“Where on earth did Harvey go?”
I heard he’d regroup with us on his own, but I haven’t seen his face once.
Is he even alive?
He didn't get caught in that Neutron Bomb earlier and die, did he?
“He is still alive.”
As if reading my thoughts, Brantley replied immediately.
“Then is he infected?”
“Seeing as no abnormalities have been detected in Carte, he is, quite literally, perfectly fine.”
Hrmmm.
Then where the hell did he go?
The fact that Brantley couldn't find him even while searching means he hasn't entered the range of a precision scan even once.
I formed the team believing he’d show up eventually, but since he hasn't joined us even on the day of the operation, I should probably just consider Harvey a non-factor.
Now then.
“Svetlana.”
I felt her return after we had briefly parted for our respective tasks.
When I called her name, she rose from the shadows and answered immediately.
“Yes.”
“Did Chloe seem alright?”
“Yes. She seemed a bit anxious, but she gave the impression that she could endure it for a while for the sake of the operation.”
Then it should be fine.
Ultimate is over there, and Chloe seems to have gained some measure of control over her power over the last two days.
Since her dependency on me seemed to have worsened after meeting the doctor, I wanted to protect her myself until the operation was over if possible, but additional orders came down from the Bureau’s command headquarters.
The order was to leave Chloe’s supervision to others and for me and my team to act as an independent unit directly under HQ, "pruning" the entire battlefield.
They probably decided it would be a waste to just leave us idle.
I had intended to do that from the start anyway.
Since it’s the beginning of the Extermination Operation, I’ve just been observing and smashing a few flesh-colored monsters nearby. But once something happens to shift the atmosphere or we pass the midpoint, I planned to ignore whatever the Bureau or the field commanders said and strike The Enemy’s main base.
So, while I’m grateful the command headquarters appointed us as an independent unit, there is one unexpected detail.
I expected to be deployed to the front lines, but I thought they’d tell us to follow the orders of the field command.
Being an independent unit directly under the command headquarters, rather than field command, means we essentially only have to listen to the Bureau’s central HQ.
It also means I can ignore whatever the field commanders say and do whatever I want.
…I wonder whose influence is behind this.
Macbeth? Or the AO Director?
Well, it doesn't matter.
My task remains the same.
I’m going to crush the pair of mad doctors who created this hell.
I can’t purify the contamination on my own because my power is lacking.
But at the very least, I can stop the situation from worsening by taking down the source.
So.
“Let’s go, everyone.”
I leapt straight off the building.
Following behind me, the others—all clad in black—leapt as well.
Svetlana in her black suit.
Montague in his black suit and Aloha Shirt.
Brantley in his black and gray gentleman’s attire.
Edward, still in human form but with numerous black chitinous growths sprouting from his body.
And in the midst of them, the only one with color: the blue-clad me.
The five of us leapt from the building and landed on the ground.
“…Requesting backup! A Flesh-colored Monster is…!”
An infantryman being chased by a Flesh-colored Monster right in front of us screamed.
“Out of the way.”
I grabbed him and tossed him in the opposite direction of the monster. Then, I pulled out my hammer, smashed the head of the Flesh-colored Monster pursuing the soldiers, and kept moving.
I felt the members of the Assassination Team behind me following suit, slamming their own attacks into the monster as they trailed after me.
We all cleared the area without stopping.
Five people, five individual strikes.
Since every attack landed, there was no need to even check if the monster had collapsed into liquid.
“You’re putting a bit more weight into your hammer than usual, aren't you?”
Montague, running alongside me, cracked a joke as if he found the situation amusing.
“It’s the same as always,” I flatly denied.
But in reality, it was exactly as Montague said.
The immense stress that had built up inside me over the last two days while looking after Chloe—I was venting it all right now.
Looking after Chloe itself wasn't the problem.
Chloe was much better behaved than Linshua, and I had the help of the idiots in the Assassination Team.
The problem was that for those two days, I had to act like a "Big Sister" Magical Girl from a cartoon.
That was truly grueling work.
The sense of liberation from escaping that terrifying mental pressure was exciting me beyond words.
Skreeeeek.
While sprinting down the street, I stomped hard on the ground to transfer all my momentum into The Hammer.
BOOM.
The Hammer, laden with massive force, struck the monster. The Enemy hit by The Hammer exploded into a firework of flesh.
However, that creature would have likely died even if I hadn't touched it.
One of its arms and legs were already gone, and a tank in the distance was aiming right at it.
In a way, I had stolen that tank’s prey.
Not that I care.
I simply killed a monster that was in my way.
So, ignoring the tank’s reaction, I just kept running.
My former subordinates looked at me as if I were being ridiculous, but I naturally ignored that reaction as well.
What matters now is striking The Enemy’s main base.
“Svetlana.”
“Yes.”
“There were a few suspicious spots among the locations we checked, right?”
“Yes.”
“You remember the closest one?”
“Yes.”
“Let’s go there. Lead the way.”
“Understood.”
With her answer, Svetlana stepped forward.
She sprinted through the alleys, constantly turning to lead us to the place she remembered.
Bang. Shlick.
Ahead of us, she maintained her speed, occasionally firing off bullets or manifesting shadow spears.
There were people at the end of Svetlana’s attacks.
A man whose head was blown apart by a bullet.
A woman pierced by a Shadow Spear and pinned to a wall.
They ended their lives by melting into the ground.
After sprinting for about thirty seconds, a figure that did not turn into liquid appeared for the first time.
A homeless man holding a bottle of booze in one hand, pierced by a Shadow Spear, having left this world with the same sleeping face he’d had.
Perhaps because he was drunk, he must have missed the multiple evacuation broadcasts.
I’m sorry.
I offered a brief apology to him in my heart, but I didn't stop.
Svetlana, who had killed the civilian, merely glanced at the corpse and showed no further reaction.
The rest of the team also continued through the alley without any particular response.
“…”
Edward looked like he wanted to say something, but the black chitin covering his face made it impossible to tell what expression he was making.
The sprint, which had claimed one victim, continued for about a minute.
“It’s here.”
With those words, Svetlana suddenly stopped in the middle of the road.
It was the middle of a street with no suspicious landmarks, let alone a hole to enter.
However, without questioning it, we gathered around her.
“Here we go.”
Swoosh.
The moment Svetlana spoke, we were swallowed by the shadows.
After about two seconds of pitch-black darkness without a single speck of light.
Splat.
We emerged from the shadows and arrived somewhere.
It was just as dark as it had been inside the shadows, but there was one distinct difference.
A foul stench so pungent it felt like it would tear my nose off.
That smell dominated this place.
A sewage system filled with filth located beneath the city.
This was a location we had identified during our reconnaissance after realizing The Enemy could move through the Water Supply Network.
Among those spots, this one contained something quite peculiar.
Should I call it a hatchery?
Decaying flesh was piled up into mountains, and the outlines of flesh-colored monsters could be seen within the mass.
Based on our observations, it seemed those pieces of flesh slowly coalesced into monsters.
But that wasn't the important part.
Next to the rotting flesh was a set of black stairs leading further underground.
It was a place we hadn't been able to explore due to a lack of time.
It was a spot we had marked to check immediately after the Defense Force arrived.
“…Guess there’s no need to check.”
We realized instantly that this place was a bust.
A massive Bone Wall was blocking the path leading underground.
The scene in the sewer had changed completely from what we’d seen yesterday.
The masses of rotting flesh had been decomposed and scattered everywhere, and the spots where bones were presumed to have been within the flesh were now neatly empty.
The bones harvested in such a manner must have been used as material for The Wall blocking the stairs.
And the Bone Wall created that way bore a message that clearly identified its creator:
‘Point cleared. Nothing here. -Harvey-.’
It was a message sent to us by the mad artist, who was doing his job perfectly well despite being nowhere to be found.